


The Song Forever Calling

by Yatzstar



Series: Dadimus Prime [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Allspark, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Darkmount, Dreams, During Canon, Episode: s02e26 Darkest Hour (Transformers: Prime), Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Lullabies, Major Character Injury, Memory Loss, Optimus Prime lives, Parent Optimus Prime, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Optimus Prime, Recovered Memories, Separation Anxiety, Transformer Sparklings, Transformers Spark Bonds, in this house there is no predacons rising, songs with power
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28947813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatzstar/pseuds/Yatzstar
Summary: Optimus knew there would be times he would be separated from the one he cared for most, so he made sure that even across impossible distances, Bumblebee would know he was there. Twice, the Autobots think their leader might be gone, but twice, Bumblebee clings to the hope of their bond and the song forever calling.-A piece looking at the end of Prime seasons 1 and 2, and how Bumblebee might have had hope even when things seemed bleak through his bond with Optimus.AKA a giant excuse to write Dad Optimus and Son Bumblebee fluff.
Relationships: Bumblebee & Optimus Prime
Series: Dadimus Prime [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042005
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71





	1. You Sang To Me

When Optimus first took in Bee, he was surprised by the challenges the sparkling brought with him. He should have predicted the nightmares—it was only rational for a young one who had been through such trauma. The first night it happened, they had still not yet come up with suitable sleeping arrangements for Bee, and Ratchet decided it would be wise for the sparkling to remain in the medbay for a little longer anyway. Optimus did not leave until he was asleep, and even then he was loathe to leave him.

The whole base was awoken by the foreign, bloodcurdling shrieks coming from the medbay, and no less than ten bots exploded into the infirmary with weapons at the ready, only to be met with the sight of an inconsolable Bee. Optimus had recognized the voice immediately, and had to tell his comrades to stand down lest they scare the little one further. They only watched with barely concealed adoration and sympathy as their leader tried to soothe Bee.

After that, there were no more armed intrusions at the sound of Bee’s cries, but the receptors that heard them felt nothing but sympathy. Everyone knew nightmares, even Optimus.

The nightmares Optimus could handle. In the beginning he ended up recharging in the medbay with Bee cradled to his chassis, and then in his own berth once the sparkling was cleared. Eventually, it only took a few breems to get him to calm down and fall back into recharge.

The true challenge for Optimus came with the war. Bee understood more than had been initially supposed, and the first time Optimus tried to leave to fight the Decepticons, the sparkling screamed bloody murder. The sound cut deep into Optimus’ spark, and Bee had to be torn from him so he could leave.

That day, his resolve to survive became all the more concrete so he could always come back, so he could always come when Bee called.

Eventually, Bee was no longer inconsolable at his comings and goings, but still had no small amount of anxiety. The moment he arrived back from a mission, Bee somehow always knew, breaking away from his caretaker and running across the base on wobbly legs with cries of “Op’mus! Op’mus!”

Optimus always heard, and was always there to take Bee into his arms no matter what injuries he had sustained, and no matter how loudly Ratchet fussed.

“He is overly anxious when you leave,” Ratchet said, eyeing the tiny form of Bee sound asleep against Optimus’ chassis as he tended to the Prime’s wounds after a battle. “It is not good for his mind, and I can hardly keep him occupied while you are away.”

Optimus nodded his agreement, adjusting his grip on the sparkling to allow the medic better access to a scratch on his shoulder. “I am unsure of how to reassure him. I have told him before that I will return, but that does not seem to console him.”

Ratchet was quiet for a moment. “I trust you have developed a bond with him at this point.”

“Yes, undoubtedly.” Optimus reached out with his spark, touching the fluttering of the tiny sparkbeat so near to his own.

“He should be able to feel your spark in return,” Ratchet said. “The medical literature states that sparklings and their caregivers are always aware of each others’ sparks, whether they are conscious of it or not.”

“Indeed. I am aware of his spark at all times, no matter where I am, just as I am aware of all sparks around me.”

“Perhaps if Bee was made aware of this bond, he would feel more at ease with your comings and goings. As the war continues, you will only have more responsibilities.”

“Thank you, old friend,” Optimus murmured, tightening his hold on the little one cradled to him. “He will need this in the future. I am sure of it.”

That same night, Optimus was up late, mulling over the nature of sparklings. He had never expected to come into the position of caretaker over one, especially when the Well of All Sparks ceased producing as a result of the war. As such, he knew nothing about how best to take care of Bee, only having Ratchet’s medical knowledge to help him. None of his allies had interacted with any sparklings in many vorns due to their current rarity, leaving them all clueless as to what to do with their tiny comrade.

Optimus found himself consulting some texts from Iacon for advice on the topic of sparklings. Ratchet was likely correct that bringing their bond to Bee’s attention would help his anxiety, but there had to be more to learn, general things for any caretakers, not just an unwitting Prime.

The instincts of a data clerk had not left him yet, and it did not take him long to come upon an archive of sparkling care. Many things in the archive he was already doing naturally, so he skimmed through until he came across a concept he had not yet considered: lullabies. According to the author of the entry, songs had a calming effect on sparklings and could serve to heighten the bond between them and their caretakers.

Upon reading this, old words stirred in the depths of Optimus’ memories. He was unsure where he had heard them, if they had come from merely seeing caretakers and sparklings together in the past or if it was a remnant of his own caretakers eons ago. He did not dwell on the origins long, however, as it did not matter so long as it could be of potential help to Bee.

His ruminations were interrupted by the hiss of a door behind him. He half turned from where he sat, sighting the familiar shade of yellow in the half-light at the doorway that led to his quarters.

“Little one,” Optimus murmured gently, taking in the sparkling’s troubled countenance, “what is the matter?”

“Woke up,” Bee whispered, a tremor in his voice, “was alone.”

“I am sorry, little spark. I did not think you would wake up. I was just reading.” Optimus extended a servo towards the sparkling, and Bee needed no second bidding. He hurried forward, allowing himself to be scooped up into the Prime’s embrace.

“Leaving again?” Bee asked quietly.

“Not for a few days. I must heal from battle.”

Bee gave him a sparkbroken look. “Stay!”

Optimus’ spark twisted uncomfortably at the longing in Bee’s optics. “I wish I could, but I must continue to fight the Decepticons.”

Bee’s lower lip trembled, coolant starting to brim at the corners of his optics. Optimus could not stand to see him so pained, so he swiftly set about trying to remedy the situation.

“Bee,” he said, lifting the sparkling so they were face to face. “Do you know what your spark is?”

Bee’s face scrunched a little as he considered the question, looking down at his own chassis. “Sparks…give life.”

“That is right, little one, but there is more to it. Sparks were given to us by Primus so that we may know one another and feel a connection, whether we know it or not.” Optimus could tell by the confused look on Bee’s face that he was getting too sophisticated for the sparkling’s comprehension, so he tried something different, reaching out to the tiny spark with his own. “Can you feel me?”

Bee nodded. When he was near the Prime, he could keenly sense his spark. It was warm and vast, a gentle ocean he could drift in at ease. The enormity and power of it was almost overwhelming to the sparkling, but it was a good kind of overwhelmed, filling him with peace in an otherwise frightening world.

“We are connected, you and I, because I care for you. No matter where I go, I can always feel you, and though you may not know it, you can feel me in return.”

Bee tilted his helm, reaching out to touch Optimus’ massive chassis with one servo. “Feel you…anywhere?”

“Yes, little spark. Though it may not be as easy as it is now with me here, you can always feel me in here.” He tapped Bee’s chassis gently, earning a tiny giggle. “As long as you feel me, you can rest assured I will return to you no matter the circumstance.”

Bee let out a clicking that was very much like a purr, a smile lighting up his face.

“When I leave again, I want you to hold onto the connection, that way you will know I am there even if I am not physically with you. And when you may think you cannot feel me, I want you to remember these words.”

Even as Orion, he had never been one for singing, thinking his voice too low and inexpressive for such an artistic undertaking, but after a moment’s pause he did so now, knowing it was helpful, even necessary, for the one he cherished.

Bee sat enraptured, optics wide, as the Prime’s voice rolled over him. The sound seemed to vibrate through his plating, carrying words through the simple melody. To him, it did not matter if Optimus’ voice was what some would consider unmelodious, for he could feel the power and emotion behind every word. His sense of Optimus’ spark only grew, and he clung to the connection all the harder, his troubled thoughts becoming washed in steady serenity.

As the song went on, Bee’s helm tilted forward to rest on Optimus’ chassis as recharge beckoned him. The Prime stroked his tiny form, urging him to give in to the pull. Just before recharge claimed him completely, Bee managed a faint whisper:

“Love…Op’mus.”

The song faltered and broke. Optimus looked down at Bee in surprise, but the sparkling did not notice the song had stopped, out like a light.

Something stirred in him. He could not remember the last time he had declared affection for anyone or received it, but as he was swiftly learning, Bee had a propensity for bringing about things he had long forgotten about.

“And I you, little spark.”

Ratchet headed towards Optimus’ quarters, though he did so with no small amount of reluctance. The Prime was due back in the field today, which meant the duty of caring for Bee fell to him while he was gone. Though things had gotten marginally better than they had been at first, the medic still felt unprepared to deal with the tears, the anxiety, the incessant questions.

As he got close to his destination, he was jerked from his thoughts by a peculiar sound, so peculiar that he stopped in his tracks entirely. For a moment he listened to the low, gentle tones, confused, until it clicked in his mind. Then he listened with utter disbelief.

Optimus Prime was _singing._

Ratchet inched towards the door of the Autobot leader’s quarters in an attempt to confirm what he was hearing, and there was no mistaking the rich, deep tones. It was easy to guess by the words who it was he sang to, but that did little to quell his surprise.

Finally, the song faded, and only then did Ratchet raise a servo to knock on the door. At Optimus’ bidding, he entered the room, and found the Prime cradling Bee close as he supposed.

“Be good for Ratchet,” Optimus said, raising the sparkling so he could look him in the optics. “Remember what I have told you.”

Bee frowned but nodded, reaching out to the Prime’s face. Optimus responded, bringing Bee closer so the sparkling could embrace his helm fully. After a moment, he drew away, turning his attention to Ratchet.

“Thank you for caring for him, old friend.”

“Of course,” Ratchet replied, eyeing Bee curiously. Though the sparkling’s face was slightly downcast, he looked far less anxious than he usually did when Optimus left. The Autobot leader deposited him in Ratchet’s servos, and he waited for some form of protest, but heard none.

“I will return,” Optimus murmured, touching Bee’s helm. With a final nod at Ratchet, he turned to depart.

Bee watched him go with wide optics, but did not cry.

“You’re doing well,” Ratchet said, starting towards the medical bay. “You’re being brave.”

“Op’mus will come back.” Bee touched his chassis. “Feel it.”

Ratchet smiled a little, glad that the Prime had taken his advice and that it had helped Bee. The singing had been a little unexpected, but if it helped them when separated, then so be it.

“Yes, he will come back to you.”


	2. Orion Pax

Unicron had awakened. All Cybertronians felt his presence in their sparks, a dark pressure that set them on edge, letting them know something hateful was stirring. Throughout it all, Bumblebee clung to the light of Optimus’ spark, which kept the oppression—and his fear—at a manageable level.

The scout was highly displeased with the prospect of working with Megatron, but after facing the giant manifestation of Unicron, he was willing to set the past aside, but only just. Therefore, he made no complaint as the others fought over whether or not to take Megatron up on his offer to help defeat Unicron. He felt oddly calm about the idea of Megatron, and he likened it to the fact that the warlord was nothing compared to the Chaos Bringer himself.

His nervousness spiked when Jack questioned Optimus’ fate after releasing the power of the Matrix, for he did not know what would happen either. When they finally all agreed to accept Megatron’s help, Optimus approached him.

“Bee, I wish to speak with you,” the Prime said calmly.

Bee looked into his face, searching for answers, but found none. _“A-alright.”_

While the others were busy discussing what to do when Megatron arrived, the Prime and the scout slipped away into a corridor.

 _“What’s going to happen?”_ Bee burst out once they were alone.

“I am unsure,” Optimus admitted softly. “Even I have never faced a threat like this before.”

 _“What about the Matrix?”_ Bee continued, his anxiety rising. _“What if you…what if you…?”_

Optimus placed a servo on his shoulder, ending his worried inquiries. “I am certain it will not kill me when I release it, as it is not connected to my spark. The true outcome, however, remains unknown to me. It could be nothing, or…”

Bee studied the Prime worriedly as he trailed off. _“Or?”_

After a moment, Optimus shook his helm. “I do not know what will happen. I can only do my best to prepare for every conceivable outcome.” With that, he knelt, bringing them faceplate to faceplate. “We do this for not only our sake, but for every human on this planet as well. Remember that.”

Bee nodded hesitantly. Part of him wanted to be selfish, to say that nothing was worth losing the mech who had raised him all his life, but he swiftly banished such feelings. Even if humankind was not a factor, Unicron posed a grave threat to all Cybertronians, Autobot or otherwise, and the Matrix was the only chance they had of stopping him.

Optimus studied him, seeing the worry in the youngling’s optics that he strove valiantly to hide. “Do you trust me?”

Bee nodded again, this time more confidently. _“Of course.”_

“Then please trust me when I say I have a plan. I do not have time to divulge everything, but I am not going into this unprepared.”

_“I…I trust you, Optimus.”_

The Autobot leader sighed, cradling Bee’s helm with one servo and forcing their optics to meet. “You know I would never willingly leave you, little spark.”

 _“Yes,”_ Bee replied softly. _“I know.”_

“No matter what happens, I want you to hold onto what you feel in here.” He touched Bee’s spark chamber lightly. “I want you to remember the words of the song.”

_“I will.”_

Optimus rose to his full height once more. “Let us bring an end to this chaos.”

Megatron entered the base, only heightening the tension among the bots even further. The weight of the artificial vocoder on Bee’s face only seemed to grow heavier when the warlord stepped onto their turf, but he did his best to ignore it.

When they stepped into the Earth’s core, all apprehension about Megatron vanished from Bee’s mind. The enmity of Unicron became all the more crushing in its prevalence, settling like a dead weight upon all their sparks with a burning coldness.

Seeking to maintain courage, Bee sought out Optimus’ spark with his own. It beat on strongly, its warmth uninhibited by the encroaching presence of Unicron’s shadow. To Bee, the feel of it was as salve to a burn, lessening the dread that surrounded them.

With no small amount of difficulty, they made their way to the heart of Unicron, battling his creations as they went. Ultimately Bee had to stay behind and battle as Optimus and Megatron went forward to Unicron’s spark, but he hung onto the connection between him and the Prime, waiting for the Matrix to be released.

They all knew when it happened. The cavern trembled then rocked, the sound of an explosion mingling with an enraged roar that sent a shudder through their sparks.

Then all went still. The manifestations they were battling fell lifelessly to the floor, and the dark enmity lifted from them all.

As soon as Bee regained his bearings, he reached out, searching worriedly for Optimus’ presence. To his relief, he found it, though it was weak and unsteady. Abandoning all sense of caution, he tore towards the cavern where the spark of Unicron had rested, Arcee and Bulkhead following behind him.

Bulkhead smashed through a section of metal plating, breaking into the spark chamber. “Optimus, are you alright?”

Bee sighted Optimus standing seemingly unharmed at Megatron’s side, but his relief was short-lived when the Prime spoke: “Why did he call me that?”

“What did you do to him?” Arcee hissed.

“Who are they?” Orion asked, gazing at the strange bots in confusion.

Bee could not believe what he was seeing. It seemed Optimus did not know them—know _him_ anymore.

Before more could be said, a Groundbridge opened behind Optimus and Megatron. The Decepticon lord saw his chance.

“Our mortal enemies!” he cried, pushing the Prime towards the swirling vortex. “We’re outnumbered! Go, I’ll cover you!”

Orion ran towards the bridge as Megatronus fired at the bots, but some strange feeling, a sensation in his spark, bade him to stop. He looked back just in time to see one of the bots, a small yellow grounder, tumble to the ground in an attempt to dodge Megatron’s fire. He couldn’t have been more than a youngling, and it hurt Orion’s spark to think he had made an enemy of one so young.

Bee looked up at Optimus, and their optics met. There was no trace of recognition in the Prime’s gaze, no love or affection, just confusion.

 _“Optimus!”_ he cried. _“Don’t leave!”_

Orion stared at the youngling a moment longer, his binary-strung cry ringing in his receptors. Something in his desperation-filled optics stirred his spark. He felt discomfort, perhaps even sorrow, and the need to…to…

They were enemies. He trusted Megatronus over these strange bots. So he turned and ran, ignoring the strange pull in his spark.

Bee could only watch in disbelief as Optimus vanished into the Groundbridge with Megatron following close behind, and of course before they could reach it, the bridge closed, leaving the three Autobots in the center of the Earth.

“What…what happened?” Bulkhead asked, staring at the spot where the Groundbridge had been.

“I don’t know, but it’s not good,” Arcee growled, raising a servo to her comm. “Ratchet, we need a Groundbridge. Something happened.”

Bee said nothing as they returned to the Autobot base, too stunned to find words. So great was his disbelief that everything felt unreal, as though he walked in a dream, or rather a nightmare. Now that there was distance between them, he could no longer tangibly sense Optimus’ spark, and in order to sense it once more he would have to focus. However, he knew that Optimus was still alive, for if he died he was sure to feel it. However, he shuddered to think of whatever evil purpose Megatron had in mind for the Autobot leader.

As they walked into the base, the humans and Ratchet came to meet them, though Bee barely saw them.

“Optimus?” Ratchet asked. “Is he…?”

“Dead? No.” Arcee replied.

“But he looked right at us without recognizing us,” Bulkhead said. “Didn’t even know his own name.”

Ratchet’s face went dark. “When Optimus surrendered the Matrix of Leadership, he lost more than the collective Wisdom of the Primes. He lost his own memories. He lost himself.”

“That doesn’t follow,” Arcee said. “Optimus knew Megatron.”

“They were like BFFs,” Bulkhead said.

 _“But he didn’t know me,”_ Bee choked out.

“If Optimus did not know his own name, perhaps it is because the title of Prime hasn’t yet been granted to him.” When the humans voiced their confusion, Ratchet carried on. “With the power of the Matrix no longer within him, it would stand to reason that Optimus has reverted to his pre-Prime self, the historical archivist Orion Pax.”

Bee knew Optimus had not always been a Prime, but it was all he had ever known, and it was horrifying to think he had lost eons of memories, including all memories of him. It tore at him that the bot he loved the most no longer knew him, maybe even hated him now, in order to save them all from Unicron.

“We must get to work finding him if we have any hope of enacting his contingency plan.”

Bee came out of his thoughts as Ratchet spoke of a plan by Optimus. When he spied the keycard to Vector Sigma in Jack’s hand, the conversation between him and Optimus right before they embarked on the ill-fated quest suddenly made sense.

_I am not going into this unprepared._

His spark rose in his chassis. The weight of what had happened seemed far less crushing now that he knew of Optimus’ plan, but he was still deeply worried. There was hope, but Optimus was now among their enemies who could snuff his spark at any moment, and believed that the those enemies were his allies.

He still could not shake the deeply unsettling feeling of Optimus’ unseeing gaze upon him. Though his spark remained the same, ever calm and warm, there had been nothing in his optics, no knowledge of the vorns-old bond.

They argued about how they would make it to Cybertron and who would activate Vector Sigma, but ultimately no true resolution was reached. For the time being, they had to carry on without Optimus until a potential route to Cybertron was found.

As soon as he could, Bee retreated to the quiet of his quarters, knowing he would need all his focus for what he was about to do. He had never tried to reach Optimus through their bond in such a manner before; normally the vague awareness was enough, but this was the first time he had been truly separated from the Prime and left with uncertainty about his future.

He closed his optics, willing his vents to slow and his sparkrate, which had been high ever since Unicron, to decrease. He focused on his spark, calling the words of the song Optimus had taught him to mind. Binary was not musical, so the words would carry no audible melody, but the tune would remain true in his spark, and that was what truly mattered.

After a moment, he sang, and though the sound was a combination of beeps, clicks, and whirrs full of binary to the listening ear, the words carried his spark far.

_Hear my voice, my dear one,_

_The song forever calling._

_I will call until you hear me,_

_Though the night is falling._

_Can you hear me?_

His spark transcended the distance, searching for the one it was bound to, and through the whispered words it found the presence he so desired. The feel of Optimus’ spark was faint but steady, unmarred despite the situation he was in.

Though Bee knew he should not expect it, he still hoped for some sort of response from the Prime. However he received nothing, no gentle touch such as the Prime’s spark usually offered. Reluctantly, he drew away, only able to maintain such a deep focus for a limited amount of time.

His awareness returned to the Autobot base, and the emptiness that came with Optimus’ absence. He knew the Prime was alive, and that would have to do for now.

Orion Pax worked away at the Iacon archives, though his thoughts were distant. He was overwhelmed by everything that had happened; one day he was an archivist at Iacon under the tutelage of Alpha Trion, and the next thing he knew he Cybertron was gone and he had spent years in captivity.

The state of Cybertron grieved and angered him. He could not believe any Cybertronians would wage a war so fierce as to make their home uninhabitable. The bots he had seen when he first awakened—the Autobots—were to blame, but for some reason Orion could not will his anger to be kindled against them, only uncertainty and slight curiosity. The image of the yellow youngling with the strange face kept coming back to him, his cry so desperate and pained. If he was a captive among them, why did the youngling look so distraught?

He continued working, all the thoughts racing through his head, but no solution seemed clear. Briefly he considered asking Megatronus, but he dismissed it. His comrade seemed far more callous and temperamental that he remembered, but he tried to keep it in perspective. It had been vorns since they had last spoken, and much had happened since then. The many tragedies had likely worn on Megatronus, so Orion could not truly blame him for changing somewhat. However, he did not feel the gladiator was one to tolerate excessive questions.

His methodical work was interrupted when his spark shuddered within him. He froze completely, digits hovering over the console, startled by the new feeling. It was as though his spark was reacting to something, though what it was he could not say. It pulsed erratically within his chassis as a foreign feeling wormed its way into his awareness, a feeling of something faint and tender, like the smallest glimmer of light across a great distance. The feeling was strange to him, but not unpleasant, awakening a feeling of longing for…something, someone, perhaps that he could not call to mind.

Then, the feeling was gone as suddenly as it had come, leaving Orion breathless. Pressing a servo to his chassis, he vented deeply, trying to bring the quick pulse of his spark back to a normal rate. He stood still, waiting for the feeling to return, but it did not. Reluctantly, he returned to his work, though it seemed to him his spark knew something he did not.


	3. Optimus Prime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever wonder how in "Orion Pax: Part 3" how Orion knew to Groundbridge to where the Spacebridge was? I bring you the canon answer.

The attempt at intercepting the Decepticon’s raid at the military base was nothing short of a disaster. Bee had one moment of hope when Arcee made it onto the Nemesis, but it was dashed when Soundwave teleported her off without even a glimpse of Optimus.

Bee stood in silence as Agent Fowler shouted at them, tired and frustrated. They were all disheartened and unsure with Optimus’ absence, but he felt it most keenly. The first chance he got, he darted away to a quiet corner, settling into the same meditation he had done the day before.

 _“Can you hear me?”_ he whispered.

Again, Optimus’ spark was there in the distance, unchanged, but the Prime offered no sort of reply to his presence. With a deep sigh, he let his spark draw away, the frustration he felt giving way to sadness.

“Bee?” The scout looked up to see Ratchet approaching him, his faceplate drawn with worry. “Are you all right?”

 _“No.”_ Bee sighed deeply. _“I can feel him out there, but…”_

“He doesn’t reply,” Ratchet murmured.

_“He’s alive for now, but every breem that passes, I’m afraid that—”_

“If Megatron intended to kill him, he would have done it already,” Ratchet interrupted. “Clearly he wants Optimus for some purpose, though I am unsure what it is.”

Bee nodded, though the droop of his doorwings indicated he was not truly heartened by the words. At that moment, Ratchet saw the little sparkling who missed his caretaker, and his spark went out to the youngling. He missed his old friend, but he could not imagine the duress Bee was under.

“We will get him back, Bee,” the medic said. “If Optimus did not believe it would be possible to save him, he would not have given away the key to Vector Sigma.”

Bee knew he was right, but even Optimus’ plans were not foolproof. All they could do was search for a way to Cybertron and hope they made it before it was too late.

Starscream’s appearance cast the first inklings of doubt into Orion Pax’s mind. The Decepticon commander was supposedly dead according to what Megatronus had told him, and yet the mech had stood before him, very much alive. The seeker had spoken that name again, the one that had followed him ever since the yellow youngling called it out: Optimus Prime.

Starscream left him with more questions and no answers, and a blooming doubt in Megatronus’ words. The claim that Starscream was “dead to the Decepticon cause” seemed true enough, but there was no true reason to hide the fact that the seeker was alive unless there was something greater going on.

As Orion worked, he found his thoughts kept drifting back to the name of Optimus and the words Starscream had said to him.

_You truly are being kept in the dark, aren’t you?_

Against his better judgement, he started to deviate from his decoding, delving into the database. His curiosity and confusion had become too great to be ignored. He entered the name of Optimus Prime, intrigued to see that the bot presented on the screen was a mech far different than him. The history of the Prime was interesting but provided little insight, until he noticed something in the entries.

_Rank: Leader of the Autobots_

Orion frowned at the screen, immediately moving to type in the name of Ratchet. He was greeted with the sight of an older mech he did not know, but as he guessed, there was an inconsistency.

_Rank: Medic_

He began the task of going through every Autobot in the database, surprised to find there were many whose locations remained unknown. Adding a filter to the entries, he searched for a list of Autobots who were known to be on Earth, and found himself staring at a list of only five names: Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Ratchet.

The numbers seemed pitiful for the violent criminals Megatronus had made the Autobots out to be, and on top of that, there was the inconsistency of the supposed leadership of the group.

The crimson mech was about to start going through each Autobot’s profile when his spark jumped within him as it had the day before, reacting to something he could not quite grasp. This time he was not as startled by the jarring sensation, trying to understand its origin. It seemed as though something outside himself reached out to him through his spark. He tried to focus on the feeling, but it was already fading away, and try as he might to grasp at it, he did not know how to reply.

As his sparkrate returned to normal, a new thought occurred to him. He wondered if, on top of everything else that seemed to not add up, he had formed a bond with another bot at some point, though he hadn’t the faintest notion of who it could be. In his time at Iacon, he knew he had read about bonds and what they typically felt like, and it took him of moment to remember the conditions under which they were formed.

When he remembered, it hit him like a hammer blow to the chassis. Bonds were formed typically by a sparkling and their caretaker.

If it was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he had no sparkling. He saw them often enough at Iacon, but he was certainly not the caretaker of one. He would be lying if he said the idea had not crossed his mind occasionally, especially when he sighted members of the lower castes who were clearly deprived of the necessities for a good life. However, his busy life and burgeoning political career alongside Megatronus had left that notion only as a fantasy for the time being.

And yet…

Orion placed a servo upon his spark chamber, but no more feeling was forthcoming. Troubled, he turned back to the console, resolving to try and form a reply the next time the outcry came to his spark

He started going through the profiles of the other few Autobots on Earth. There was information on current and past affiliations, fighting styles, and general identification, but nothing that he could tell added further chaos to the mass of contradictions that was his current existence.

When he selected the file labeled _Bee_ , he recognized the form of the young mech instantly, glad to have name to put to the face that kept coming back to him. However, there was nothing of note in his file either.

Megatronus came by not long after to check on his progress, and Orion could not help but ask the question nagging at him.

“Megatronus, did I ever have…a sparkling?”

The gladiator could not disguise a rare moment of complete surprise. “What?”

“A sparkling,” Orion repeated calmly.

“Of course you didn’t,” Megatronus said, his expression returning to its usual scowl. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

Orion almost divulged the strange things he had been feeling, but something in the back of his mind told him not to. He merely shook his helm at the Decepticon. “I…I do not know. Forgive me.”

Megatronus’ gaze sharpened, and for a moment Orion feared he was not deceived. He had always been a terrible liar. But, much to his relief, the Decepticon leader turned away.

“Your time in stasis with the Autobots has likely left you confused,” the silver mech said. “It is best that you lay aside any strange notions and focus on your tasks.”

Orion knew what he felt could not be ignored, but he nodded his agreement. “As you wish.”

In a startling turn of events, a Decepticon proved useful to the Autobot cause, and said Decepticon was none other than Starscream. For once, his ire towards Megatron outweighed his ire towards the Autobots, giving them the information they desperately needed to save Optimus.

When Bee returned from patrol, he was irritated to learn Ratchet and Bulkhead had an encounter with Starscream and he wasn’t there. He had many questions he would’ve wanted to ask the seeker concerning Optimus, but the location of the Spacebridge was enough to abate his irritation. They were close to getting Optimus back.

As they prepared to go to the Spacebridge, Ratchet drew Bee aside. “Have you received any form of response from Optimus yet?”

 _“No,”_ Bee replied.

“Keep trying,” Ratchet said. “If we can get him to come to us, that will make things significantly easier. Once we activate the Spacebridge it will likely only be a matter of time until Megatron realizes it, and he might deduce what we are attempting and move Optimus to an even harder place to reach.”

_“But he doesn’t remember me. Why would he come?”_

“The memories of the mind can be lost, but the memories of the spark are not so easily changed,” Ratchet assured the scout. “The bond between you and him is not severed even now, and Orion was always one to follow his spark from what I understand. We must hope that he feels you and responds, even if his mind is lost.”

Bee nodded. _“I’ll do my best.”_

The more Orion rooted through the databases, the more he discovered encrypted information. At first the encryptions were hidden to the unsuspecting optic, but it did not take long for the archivist to notice. It seemed most of the encryptions lay within the Autobot files, only solidifying his suspicions that not all was as it seemed as far as his enemies were concerned.

It did not take him long to decrypt much of what was hidden; the algorithms were complex, but whoever had performed the encryption was not a student of Alpha Trion. He watched in wonder as the image of what was supposedly Optimus Prime pixelated and warped, slowly forming into a clear image that left him in disbelief: himself.

He ran the decryption several more times in an attempt to confirm that what he was seeing was correct, and each time it came up with the same picture. After staring at the image for so long, he dragged his optics to the text beneath, which left him even more awestruck. There were countless exploits detailed there, things he could never imagine himself doing, seeming to come out of a sparkling’s storybook.

After being called the name multiple times, after seeing the information with his own optics, Orion was now sure of the truth: he was Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots.

How he was worthy of such a position and such power Orion could not grasp. To be counted among the Primes was an honor he had never considered trying to achieve. And if he was a Prime, why could he not remember being one? Why could he not remember a single thing listed in the files?

As he read on, it became painfully clear to him the nature of his position. His faction was at odds with the Decepticons, and Megatronus—Megatron. It was agony to think that he was an enemy of the one he had once called friend, even brother, but he knew now that somehow he was being used. He did not remember being a Prime, and Megatron was using that to his advantage, though why he wanted the Iacon relics remained unknown.

He continued on to the other Autobots’ files, though hardly anything had been hidden beneath the encryption on them. It wasn’t until he returned to the file on Bee that he noticed something that surprised him. At first, everything seemed the same, until he found information at the bottom of the entry that left him breathless.

_Suspected caretaker: Optimus Prime. Do not engage._

Once more, the sight of the youngling’s anguished expression rose in his mind’s eye, and everything seemed to fall into place, explaining the strange feeling in his spark. He—Optimus Prime—had a sparkling who was now a youngling, calling for him.

_“Optimus! Don’t leave!”_

Orion winced as the words came back to him. If he had known, if he had remembered the youngling was his, he would have never left. Megatronus’ deception only continued to get worse, and anger stirred within him.

“I am sorry, little one,” he whispered, staring at the image of Bee. “I am sorry.”

The enormity and majesty of the Spacebridge facility was lost on Bee. It was impressive, but all he cared about was getting Optimus back.

They took out the guards with ease, and allayed Breakdown’s suspicions with Agent Fowler’s help. Once the bridge was active and Arcee and Jack passed through, Bee turned away from the rest of them, trying to reach Optimus with his spark.

_“Hear my voice, my dear one…”_

As he had hoped, Orion eventually felt the distant call once more, and this time he knew who it belonged to.

“Bee…?” he wondered, uncertain but wanting to answer.

Bee inhaled sharply as he felt Optimus respond, a faint push against his far-flung spark, uncertain but well-meaning. The scout whirled to face the others, his optics bright.

_“He hears me!”_

Orion stood in wonder as his spark did that which he did not know he knew. It reached out and connected with Bee’s, forming a joyous attachment. He felt it pounding in his chassis, each pulse only further awakening a love of a frightening intensity, the likes of which he did not remember experiencing, but his spark remembered.

“I do not remember you,” Orion admitted softly, pressing a servo to his chassis. “But I remember that I love you.”

Bee let out a shaky exhale as their connection solidified. Optimus had reciprocated, which was something he had never expected to happen while his memories were gone. Once more, the spark he knew was open to him.

Orion was interrupted when the door hissed open and Megatron stalked in.

“Orion, have you made progress with Project Iacon?” the Decepticon lord asked.

“It seems I am a bit rustier than I thought,” Orion replied, trying to keep his tone light.

Megatron looked up at the screens, then turned to face him. “Might that have anything to do with the nature of your after-hours research?”

Orion’s spark dropped, and it must have showed on his face, as something of a sneer twisted Megatron’s mouth.

“Did I fail to mention that we would be tracking your activities?” The warlord marched over to a console and pressed a command, bringing up the decrypted image of the true Optimus Prime.

Knowing there was no hiding anymore, Orion spoke the questions that plagued him. “Why does history portray me siding with the Autobot aggressors? And why did Starscream call me a Prime? I must know, who am I?”

“You are my clerk,” Megatron hissed. “Now get back to work and decode that database.”

“No,” Orion retorted. “I would rather erase my findings than make them available for your questionable use.” He pressed the button and erased everything, turning to fix Megatron with a steely look, knowing his actions likely had unpleasant consequences.

Megatron was undaunted by the display, and laughed. Orion watched in despair as all his work reappeared on the screens, unscathed by his attempted deletion.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t be tracking and documenting every iota of your invaluable research?” Megatron asked, his words laced with contempt.

Orion’s response was cut off when the door opened once more, and Soundwave’s dark likeness crossed the threshold. An image flashed upon the silent mech’s visor, one of great interest to Megatron.

“One of sentries has been activated…on Cybertron?”

Orion looked at the gladiator in shock, barely able to contain his outrage. “You told me our planet was dead.”

“That is besides the point. Guards!” Two Vehicons entered as Megatron advanced on the archivist, drawing his servo blade. “You will finish Project Iacon by the time I return, or I will carve out your spark before your very eyes!” He stalked out of the room, Soundwave following in his wake like a shadow, leaving Orion alone with the two Vehicons.

Bee felt the cadence of Optimus’ spark shift, the pulse becoming erratic and uncertain. Something was wrong, but he was not sure what. Ratchet said something about scraplets, but he ignored it, trying to maintain his connection and figure out what was happening. However, moments later, a Groundbridge opened that did not belong to them, shattering his concentration and drawing his spark away from Optimus’.

All the Autobots tensed as a familiar, hulking form stepped through the bridge. Bee was instantly on edge, he and Bulkhead placing themselves in between the enemy and the bridge to Cybertron.

“So, Vector Sigma is more than legend!” Megatron said as the Groundbridge closed behind him. “You Autobots have gone to impressive lengths to recover your leader. Be assured, I will never underestimate you again.”

Bee dropped into a fighting stance. They were so close to getting Optimus back, and he was not about to let Megatron stop them, even if the Decepticon lord frightened him.

“Now, I assume the one called Arcee will stepping through that portal with a reloaded Matrix of Leadership in hand?”

“We hold the Spacebridge at all costs!” Ratchet yelled, extending his blades.

Bee drew his blasters and darted forward, his anger towards Megatron overtaking all fear.

Orion’s servos froze above the keys as he felt Bee’s spark pull away from his own abruptly. He frowned, troubled by the sudden emptiness and unsure how to rectify it.

“No one told you to stop, Pax,” one of the Vehicons growled, stalking forward.

Orion knew there was something greater going on, but before he could figure out what, he had to try and speak sense into Megatron’s followers. He turned to face them as they readied their blasters.

“I believe Megatron intends to use whatever he finds in Project Iacon to harm the Autobots.” Orion stepped towards the Vehicons, his thoughts fixed on the youngling that was his. “Please. We can warn them.”

He was unprepared for the three blows that landed in swift succession with dreadful force. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor, staring at the barrel of a blaster.

The Autobots knew the only one who could truly contend with Megatron was Optimus, but they had to try nonetheless. As Ratchet and Bulkhead engaged in close combat, Bee fired his blasters from a distance. Despite their efforts, Megatron blew through them with horrifying efficiency.

Bee had no time to react as the gladiator was upon him like a lightning bolt, and he hit the ground with a crash that made everything go fuzzy. Pain exploded through the entirety of his frame and his receptors rang, barely able to hear the sounds of battle. He knew he would not be able to get up again, so he did the only thing he could and reached out once more for Optimus. It hurt to even inhale, but he did even so, the words coming out in a wavering strain that could hardly be considered a song as much as it was a desperate cry of a sparkling who needed his father.

_My love will pierce the shadow,_

_Though the light I may not see._

_Flame and war may rage all around,_

_But you are safe with me._

Orion could do nothing but bear the Vehicons’ savage blows.

“You gotta admit, it’s a privilege to stomp the former leader of the Autobots,” one jeered.

That only solidified what Orion knew: he was Optimus Prime. He stared at the metal floor, his frame quivering from the pain of the beating as he tried to think of his next move. As the next blows fell, through the pain he felt Bee reaching for him once more.

“No, stop! Please!” he cried to his tormentors, wanting to reply.

They did not stop, but it made no difference. Orion knew at once that something was dreadfully wrong; Bee’s presence was weak and unsteady, laced with pain and fear. The knowledge of that feeling filled him with a wild surge of desperation, and he knew he had to act.

“Enough!” he yelled, and his servos shifted to high-powered blasters. He stared at them, only barely able to sputter out, “I…I’m armed?”

The Vehicons leapt back and started firing. He instinctively fired back, amazed at the efficiency in which he took them out. He rose with a new confidence in himself, now knowing he stood a chance against the Decepticons.

He concentrated on Bee’s spark, trying to figure out what his next move would be. Megatron had left, and he had a feeling the warlord was going after the Autobots, if the fearful pulse of Bee’s spark was anything to go off of. If he followed Megatron, he would likely find the Autobots, and Bee.

Anxiety for the youngling urging him forward, he marched from the room that had been his quarters for several days. He was immediately met with more Vehicons, but now he was unfazed, pointing his blasters and firing with a point-blank accuracy that seemed to come naturally.

An unwitting Vehicon, wounded in one leg, tried to drag himself away as the supposedly former Prime advanced on him. All of their ranks had been led to believe that Orion Pax was not a terrible threat as his former self had been, but that innocent demeanor was nowhere to be found as the crimson mech blew through the enemies without hardly breaking stride.

The Vehicon let out a shaky gasp as a pede pressed down on his back, not hard enough to hurt but enough to stop him. A voice like the ominous rumble of thunder spoke in his audio receptor, the tone demanding an answer and sending an icy blade of terror straight into the Vehicon’s spark.

“Where is the Groundbridge?”

Servo trembling, the Vehicon pointed a digit down the hall to the left of them. “Th-that way…”

“Thank you.” A well-placed strike to the helm rendered the Vehicon unconscious, and Orion quickly continued on his way. He had to be swift lest word of his escape spread and he was outnumbered. He was focused on making it to the Groundbridge unharmed, but he kept Bee’s faltering presence in the back of his mind, hoping it would not change for the worst. He was almost certain he heard words that were not his own, a tiny whisper from a distant voice he did not recognize, but his spark knew.

_Flame and war may rage all around, but you are safe with me._

“I am coming,” Orion whispered as he hurried down the corridor, not knowing if he was even heard. “You will be safe.”

He made it to the Groundbridge control room, the resistance not too much for him to handle. It took mere moments for him to track down the last location the bridge was opened to and reopen it. Faced with the bright vortex, he stepped through without hesitation.

He knew immediately that he had made the right decision. Bee’s presence grew strong as he stepped into the huge cavern, still unsteady but near. The Spacebridge swirled like an ethereal hurricane, and in front of its bright whirl stood the unmistakable silhouette of Megatron.

“Come, Arcee,” Megatron challenged, “so that I might end the lineage of the Primes for all time.”

“I cannot allow that to happen, Megatron,” Orion replied, stepping further into the cavern. On the other side of the path leading to the Spacebridge, he spied three bots lying still on the ground, one sporting an unmistakable yellow. He was quietly thankful for their connection then; had it not been for that, he would have assumed the worst. His anger towards Megatron only grew nonetheless, as proof of Bee’s wounded state was added to the growing list of grievances towards the Decepticon.

On the floor, Bee shuddered as Optimus’ spark drew near to him once more, the radiance cutting through his half-conscious state and into the depths of his own spark. His awareness wavered, but he dimly registered the resonant voice that opposed Megatron’s knifelike tones, and he relaxed, knowing that he had succeeded.

“And why should you care, Orion Pax?” Megatron asked, turning to face his enemy. “You are no Prime.”

“That may be true, or yet another deception, but this much I do know: my sympathies lie with the Autobots, and you are not one of us.” Orion flung himself at Megatron with a wild roar, servo blades at the ready, but his attack failed woefully when the Decepticon sidestepped the attack and landed a horrific blow to his torso, sending him to the floor with the air knocked from his vents.

“Your spark is in the right place, Orion.” Megatron dealt him another heavy blow, knocking him flat against the floor. “Unfortunately, you have much to learn before you can hope to ever again stand your ground against me.”

Orion raised his helm to face the gleam of Megatron’s blade. His mind turned to Bee, afraid of what might become of the youngling should he perish.

“A moment, sadly, which will never come.” Megatron prepared to strike, and Orion braced himself, only to hear the revving of engines as a two-wheeler came flying out of the Spacebridge. He watched in amazement as a femme transformed in midair, tackling the mech twice her size with a cry of rage and knocking them into a frenzied battle.

Realizing he had been spared, Orion scrambled to his pedes, watching the femme bravely take on the Decepticon, wanting to help but not sure how. In the corner of his optic, he noticed movement near the Spacebridge, and turned to face the tiny being that had stepped out of it. His spark leapt when he saw what the human held in his hand, and though he was unsure of what it was, he knew it was important.

“Are you…certain I am worthy?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” Jack said.

Orion gasped as a ray of light streamed forth from the key, his chassis opening of its own accord to meet it. Everything came back in a torrent, the knowledge of eons of war, upheaval, death, and destruction, the unyielding weight of leadership and the great Wisdom he alone bore as the last of the Primes, and the cloying guilt of Cybertron’s lifeless state.

But there also came joy. Memories returned of the little sparkling found in the wreckage of a once great city, of huge optics that captivated his spark, tiny digits clinging to him as though he were all that mattered. He remembered once more the vorns of watching Bee grow and flourish, the immense pride he felt at his youngling’s skill and bravery, and after Tyger Pax, his great perseverance.

He remembered the truth of the bond between them, recognizing Bee’s spark as the first thing he became aware of as the Matrix was fully replenished.

“No!” Realizing his error in focusing on Arcee and not considering the human factor, Megatron threw himself towards Orion, desperate to strike.

And it was Optimus Prime who caught the blade.

He did not know what was happening, eons of instinct acquired by fighting the Decepticon coming into play as he resisted Megatron’s strike.

“Megatron…begone!” Optimus thundered. His fist slammed into the silver mech’s chassis, sending him stumbling back.

Bee felt as Optimus’ spark wrapped around his own in a comforting embrace, and he knew the Prime was restored. The knowledge gave him new strength, and he levered himself off the ground just in time to see Optimus send Megatron flying back into the stone wall, and he ran to stand next to his leader.

“Ratchet!” Optimus called, relieved as he saw all his team gather around him, “how did we arrive here?”

“Long story, old friend,” the medic replied.

A Groundbridge opened for them, and Bee’s spark soared as Optimus gave the call: “Autobots, fall back!”

They leapt through the Groundbridge without hesitation, leaving Megatron behind. The humans met them on the other side, and Raf was the first to approach Optimus hopefully.

“Optimus…?” the boy asked.

The Prime smiled softly at the boy, unsure of why he looked so hesitant. “Hello, Rafael.”

“The big guy remembers us!” Miko cheered.

Optimus could not remember what had happened. One moment he was within the heart of Unicron, and the next thing he knew he was battling Megatron. Out of the corner of his optic, he caught the gleam of something different on his shoulderplate, and was shocked to find the Decepticon sigil etched where the Autobot sigil had been for so long.

“Although, it seems there is much I do not remember,” he said, wondering what releasing the Matrix had done to him.

“Optimus, it has truly been our darkest hour,” Ratchet said. “But know this: from every indication, your spark never ceased being that of an Autobot.”

Bee approached his leader hopefully. Optimus’ face softened as he sighted the scout, relieved that despite whatever had happened, his youngling was safe. Bee stopped in front of the Prime, staring up at him hopefully

“Bee?” Optimus asked, worry settling into his spark at his anxious expression. “What is the matter?”

The scout made no verbal reply, instead resting the crest of his helm on Optimus’ chassis, letting out a deep, shaky vent. The Prime brought a servo up to rest upon the back of the scout’s helm, and Bee could have wept at the touch, having deeply feared he would never feel it again.

“I am here,” Optimus said quietly.

The humans watched with wide eyes, mystified by the sudden affection that replaced the Prime’s normally reserved expression. But out of them all, June Darby was the least surprised, recognizing instantly the emotion that the Prime could not hide, for she bore the same love for her own son.

“Is he, like, your son or something?” Miko burst out. “Can robots even have families?”

“Okay, it’s time to go home.” June started shepherding the three children towards the base entrance. “It’s been a long few days for us all, and I’m sure Optimus needs to rest.”

Optimus caught the woman’s eye, and she gave him a knowing look and a tiny nod. It took him a moment for the realization to settle in, but when it did, he looked at Jack, then back to Bee. The more he learned about humans, the more he was surprised by the similarities between them and Cybertronians.

The children went with no small amount of complaining, only slightly pacified by the promise of being able to return tomorrow. Bee separated himself from Optimus long enough to bid them farewell, but once they left, he parked himself at the crimson mech’s side, determined to remain there.

Ratchet finally launched into the tale of Optimus losing his memories and their attempts to get him back. Optimus listened quietly, disturbed by the lack of memory about his own actions. Primus knew what he had done, though Ratchet insisted he had not truly followed the Decepticons.

“If it were not for Bee, restoring your memory would have been much harder,” Ratchet said.

Optimus cast a curious look at the scout curled at his side, unable to restrain a fond smile. “Is that so?”

Bee’s systems heated and he scrunched his doorwings together. _“I was just doing what you told me to. I remembered the song, and I had to make sure that Megatron hadn’t…”_ His binary faltered, and Optimus skimmed his digits reassuringly over the youngling’s helm.

“The bond between you and Bee persisted because, though you lost your memories and the Wisdom of the Primes, your spark stayed the same,” Ratchet explained. “Initially Orion Pax was not receptive to Bee’s attempts to connect through your bond, but he did not give up, and I believe Orion followed his spark even though he did not know who was calling him.”

“I am glad of it,” Optimus said, pride for his youngling swelling in his chassis. “You did well, little spark.”

Bee buzzed a bashful reply, just grateful to have him back.

Ratchet overlooked nothing, preforming a detailed medical scan on every single one of Optimus’ systems to ensure nothing was amiss. It took quite some time for this to be accomplished, but Bee remained with Optimus, and Ratchet took the opportunity to scan the scout as well, as getting him around medical equipment was usually much harder.

As they waited for the diagnostics to finish running, Bee gave voice to the question that had been on his mind ever since Unicron’s defeat. _“Optimus, did you know that you would lose your memories?”_

“No,” he answered honestly. “I considered it a possibility, along with many others. I also considered that I might end up in stasis, or captured by Megatron. No matter the outcome, I had to ensure that the key to Vector Sigma remained safe in case it was necessary to restore the Matrix in any way.”

 _“Why did you give the key to Jack? Why didn’t you give it to one of us?”_ Though he did not voice it, Optimus could see the unspoken question: _why didn’t you give it to me?_

“Megatron has long underestimated our human friends’ abilities, so it stands to reason that bestowing the key to a human would be something he would not anticipate. Besides…” The Prime reached out, tapping Bee’s spark chamber lightly, “…you had your own task to complete.”

Bee nodded, satisfied by the explanation. Before more could be said, Ratchet turned away from the medical console with the results.

“It seems you are surprisingly unharmed after everything, Optimus,” the medic said. “It truly makes me wonder what use Megatron had for you.”

“I do not know, old friend, but it is likely nefarious,” Optimus said.

Bee’s optics were instinctively drawn to the Decepticon sigil on the Prime’s shoulderplate. The mere sight of it made a sick feeling settle in his chassis. Optimus saw him staring and followed his gaze.

“This is truly strange,” the large mech said, frowning slightly as he inspected the new ornament. “It seems Megatron mislead me greatly.”

“Mislead Orion,” Ratchet corrected.

“In any case, I will get it fixed. Do not fret over it, Bee.”

“It can wait one night," the medic insisted. "All of us need to recharge, especially you, Optimus.”

The Prime dipped his head, never one to argue with the stern medic. “I agree. It can wait one night.” He rose and bid goodnight to Ratchet, Bee following behind him.

They walked in silence for a few moments before Optimus spoke again. “What was I like as Orion, Bee?”

The scout was taken aback by the question, and hesitated to reply. _“I don’t know. I only saw you for a few moments, but from what I did see, you looked right me and…didn’t know me at all.”_

“I know,” Optimus murmured, frowning at Bee’s troubled tone. “But he—I—responded to your spark.”

_“Not at first, but I kept trying, and eventually you almost felt…back to normal.”_

Optimus nodded thoughtfully. “I am glad of that, though I must admit that I am troubled by what I do not remember. I can only hope I did nothing to harm you, little spark.”

_“No you didn’t, it’s just…I was afraid my spark wouldn’t be strong enough to reach you.”_

“Your spark will always reach me, whether now or as Orion. Do not doubt yourself.”

 _“I was so afraid that…that we might never get you back.”_ Bee’s words cut off in a static-filled choke as the pent-up emotion of the past few days threatened to escape.

Optimus stopped in his tracks and drew the youngling into his embrace, feeling him shiver against him. “If there was another way to defeat Unicron, I would have done it, but I never doubted that no matter the outcome we would be together again.”

 _“I know,”_ Bee said, the words coming out in a binary hiss as he struggled to form them, _“but Megatron had you, and—”_

“Speak no more of him,” Optimus interrupted gently. “He no longer holds me captive. You are safe with me.”

Bee nodded against the Prime’s chassis, the pain of the events dispelling as he focused on the even, constant beat of their sparks so close together.

Optimus opened his mouth, the melody coming out before he even knew he was singing. He did not know if his other teammates could hear, but he did not particularly care.

Bee heard the words and raised his helm, instinctively joining the melody that he had known since sparklinghood, and though his voice could form no song, it still carried true in his spark as Prime and youngling rejoiced in their bond. The sound of Optimus’ low tones, underscored by binary, carried through the halls of the Autobot base, and an unknowing listener may have thought it was Primus himself come again to sing to his creations, but in truth it was merely a youngling and his caretaker, healing after the pain of a terrible separation and hopeful in the strength of their bond. They had survived this trial, and were strengthened for those yet to come.

_My sparkling will sleep in my arms,_

_To the rising of the sun._

_Close to my spark my dear one remains,_

_And I will sing ‘til all are one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, the darkest hour.


	4. Sacrifice

The Nemesis loomed like a black omen over the Autobot base, overshadowing them all in body and in spark. The sound of gunfire and explosions echoed through the base as Wheeljack and Agent Fowler did their best to stave off the advancing Decepticons, but they could only last so long.

“Ratchet, prepare to bridge everyone out of here.”

Bee looked up sharply as Optimus gave the order, a bolt of anxiety shooting through him.

“We’re abandoning the base?” Ratchet asked, giving voice to the disbelief Bee felt.

“The base is lost,” Optimus said, turning to face his team. “Wheeljack and Agent Fowler can only buy us time to escape. Bumblebee, Rafael, you will depart first.”

The children protested, but Bee barely heard as the world faded away. Panic struck him like a blaster bolt, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The Decepticons were taking their only safe place on Earth, and he felt he couldn’t take being separated from Optimus and without a home.

“We must disperse to avoid capture,” Optimus continued. “Until we can regroup and launch a counterattack, survival is our only priority now.”

 _“O-Optimus,”_ Bee stammered, his systems starting to go into overdrive as he stepped towards the Prime, _“I can’t go without you…I can’t…”_

“Bee.” Firm servos grabbed him by the shoulders, steadying him. “Bee, you must listen to me.”

Bee could barely hear him through the ringing in his receptors, his vision clouding with the overload of fear streaming through his systems.

“Bee!” A servo took hold of his helm, forcing him to look up at Optimus. The Autobot leader tried to maintain his commanding air, but there was no disguising the deep sorrow he felt. “I cannot go with you. Megatron will be looking for us, especially me, and you will be in danger if you remain with me. That is something I will not allow.”

 _“I can’t leave you here.”_ Coolant brimmed his optics, blurring his vision further.

“You must, for your own sake and for Rafael’s. We will find each other again.”

Bee heaved a deep sob that was almost drowned out in the thunder of yet another explosion above them. The rest of the team could not help but feel they were intruding as the mighty Prime knelt, grabbing his youngling into a fierce embrace.

“Megatron cannot separate us forever, not even by death. You know this,” he murmured

 _“Y-yes,”_ Bee whispered through his tears.

Optimus pulled back slightly to look him in the face. “I have no intention of dying, but if I should, know that you are the joy of my life, my little spark.”

Bee merely nodded, too emotional for his vocoder to form words.

The assembled Cybertronians watched in awe as Optimus leaned forward, pressing his lips to the crest of Bee’s helm. Such an act was only seen in the deepest displays of affection and devotion, and none of them had witnessed it in eons. They had never expected to see the gesture from the austere Prime, though if anyone were to receive it, it was Bee.

Bee felt the warm touch on his helm and almost cried anew. Optimus rarely made such a deep, vulnerable gesture, but it was always when he needed it most. The Prime’s spark swathed his own with unwavering tranquility even in the face of such a crisis, calming him down enough to focus.

“Go now,” Optimus commanded as another explosion shook the base.

Bee dipped his head, turning towards the Groundbridge, transforming into his vehicle mode and opening his door in a silent invitation. After hugging Jack and Miko fiercely, Raf quietly climbed into Bee’s back seat, giving him a sorrowful look.

The scout revved his engines, focusing on the light of the Groundbridge in front of him. He could feel Optimus’ gaze on him, but he dared not look back lest his weak resolve crumble further. Right before he hit the gas and plunged into the unknown, he felt the Prime’s presence reach out to him in a final gesture, carrying love and a whisper of a reminder.

_I will call until you hear me, though the night is falling._

Bee zoomed forwards into the vortex, glad his face was hidden as tears blurred his vision once more.

Optimus felt like his spark was tearing as his youngling vanished out of his perception and into a location unknown. He felt the sting of tears threatening his own optics, but he was swift to push the agony away, turning his attention to the remaining Autobots to divert his thoughts.

“We haven’t much time!” he called as Ratchet input a new set of coordinates.

Bulkhead and Miko left, then Arcee and Jack, then Smokescreen, leaving only Optimus and Ratchet standing in the base.

“What about you?” Ratchet asked.

“I will ensure the Decepticons do not follow.”

Ratchet almost argued for Bee’s sake, but decided against it when he saw Optimus staring stonily at the Groundbridge. He knew that the youngling was already at the forefront of the Prime’s mind, and had been a major consideration in everything he decided.

The medic walked to the Groundbridge, drawing in a shaky vent. “I…never imagined it would end like this.” Before he could change his mind, he transformed and sped from the base.

Now alone, Optimus let his stoic mask drop. “Neither did I old friend.”

They were in a forest somewhere, though where exactly was anyone’s guess. Bee drove aimlessly for a few minutes, putting distance between them and their arrival location, when Raf spoke up.

“Bee, are you okay?”

 _“No,”_ the bot replied honestly, unable to keep the strain of static from his binary. _“I’m not.”_

“We’ll find them and regroup,” Raf said, trying to keep his tone light.

Bee merely gave an absent click, focused on the distance between their sparks. When he next had the time to focus, he would reach out for the Prime’s spark, as it was now far out of the bounds of his normal senses. He could not feel their bond now, but he knew it remained, a thread stretched out across the long miles, tying them together.

“Optimus seems to care a lot about you,” Raf continued quietly. “I’ve never seen him act like that before.”

 _“He’s taken care of me for as long as I can remember,”_ Bee said. _“I’ve never been separated from him like this before.”_

“So…he’s kinda like your dad?”

Bee was glad he was not in his alt mode, as his shyness over the implication likely would’ve been evident on his face. _“I…I think that’s the human equivalent.”_

Raf said nothing, but Bee saw in his mirrors that he was smiling.

 _“What?”_ Bee asked.

“Nothing, I just think its…nice. Optimus always seemed kinda…distant, and I’m glad he’s not always like that.”

 _“Yeah.”_ The sadness must have seeped into his tone, because Raf patted his seat reassuringly.

“Don’t worry. We’ll regroup and you’ll see him again soon.” Raf would’ve said more, but was interrupted as Bee drove over a jutting rock, jolting them both. “Maybe we should walk until we find a road. You don’t want to mess up your tires.”

Bee agreed and opened the door to let him out, transforming into his alt mode as they continued through the forest.

Optimus turned to the Groundbridge controls, reaching back and grabbing the hilt of the Star Saber. As he drew it, he turned his optics skyward. His voice was drowned out by the gunfire and explosions ringing loud, but he knew he was heard nonetheless.

“Primus, if this is the end of my path, I accept my death. I only ask, please guide Bee’s steps as you have guided mine, and give him the strength to carry on without me.”

He lifted the sacred blade high.

“For the Autobots.” His spark ached for his beloved, knowing his doom was sure. “For you, my little spark.”

He brought the blade down, cleaving the Groundbridge controls in two. At the same moment, the world was engulfed in fire as the beam from the Nemesis struck with devastating force. Everything was bright and burning, then he knew no more.

The thread connecting the sparks of Prime and youngling quivered and snapped.

Bee froze, the world vanishing as his sensed the severance, the horrible emptiness that could only mean one thing. The agony of emptiness where there once had been life filled his spark as the bond he had known his entire life was shattered. A scream that could only come from a broken spark welled in his throat, but binary could not accommodate such a raw sound. Yet still, the great scream forced its way forward, and the broken mechanisms in his throat came together to try and manifest it. The sound that came forth was an unearthly, screeching, mechanical wail that no one, human or Cybertronian, was meant to hear, born of suffering unmatched.

His hydraulics gave, and he crumbled to the earth. He wailed until the broken mechanisms ceased to produce anything but a metallic gurgle, his vents exhausted. Then he lay on the earth, his frame shaking with silent, heaving sobs, unable to see past the gaping void that now encompassed his spark.

Someone was calling his name, tugging on one of his digits. Through tear-filled optics he saw Raf’s small figure, his face twisted with fear and worry.

“Bee, what happened? What’s going on?” the boy cried anxiously.

“ _O-Optimus,”_ he stuttered, his binary full of static. _“He-he’s…he’s…gone.”_

“Gone?” Raf echoed, face slackening in disbelief. “How do you know?

 _“I feel it…in my spark.”_ He raised a servo to his chassis, where his spark ached inconsolably. _“We could always feel each other no matter the distance, and now I feel…nothing.”_

Raf sat down hard, looking close to tears himself. “What are we going to do now?”

 _“I don’t know,”_ Bee choked. _“I don’t know. I can’t do anything now.”_

“We have to do something, or the Decepticons will destroy the planet,” Raf said.

Bee shook his helm, tears dripping from his optics and staining the ground beneath him _. “I’m lost without Optimus. The Decepticons have won.”_

“We have to try!” Raf protested. “The planet will be destroyed if we don’t.”

Bee knew he was right, but in that moment he could not see beyond the yawning fissure where Optimus’ presence had been and the hopelessness of its absence.

“I know it must hurt more than I could ever know, but we can’t just admit defeat.” Tears were now streaming openly down Raf’s face as well. “Haven’t you spent all this time proving that Megatron hasn’t defeated you no matter what?”

Bee ran a shaking servo over the vocoder welded to his faceplate, the permanent reminder of his drive to win the war despite what Megatron had done to him. _“Y-yes.”_

“If you can’t do it for me or for Earth, then do it for Optimus. He wouldn’t want you to admit defeat.”

Bee nodded, thoughts of Megatron filling him with a rage like never before. The Decepticon lord was to blame for Optimus’ death, and he could not allow him to get away with it. Megatron had taken his voice and his home, but now he had taken the one he loved most, and that was his breaking point.

 _“I won’t admit defeat,”_ the scout growled, fists clenching against the earth. _“I won’t stop until I snuff Megatron’s spark myself.”_

Raf hugged Bee’s arm as his frame trembled with rage and grief. _“_ We need to get back to the other Autobots first. You can’t do it by yourself.”

Bee was silently grateful for Raf’s rational approach. There was no telling what he would’ve done without the boy. _“You’re right.”_

“Let’s start by finding a road,” Raf suggested softly.

With what felt like a tremendous effort, Bee pushed himself to his pedes, forcing back the nauseating grief that was entangling his spark. He scooped Raf onto his shoulder and started walking in a random direction, bent on cleaving Megatron’s spark from his chassis.

_Everything was so dark, at first Optimus feared he had gone blind until he raised a servo to his optics and realized the darkness was all around him, but it did not inhibit his sight. He stood in a void without form or depth in every direction, but that was not what concerned him most. His spark felt strange, as though a part of it were missing, and it took him a moment to place the absence: it was where Bee’s presence remained forever etched into his awareness._

_As soon as he realized this, a distant, familiar sound reached his receptors. Reacting to it immediately, he turned, sighting a yellow figure crouched a little ways away from him, the only splash of color in the dark. Deep, spark-wrenching sobs came from the figure, and Optimus recognized the sound of Bee’s voice, the sight of his frame, immediately._

_“Little spark!” Optimus called, starting towards his charge with concern._

_Bee, only a sparkling, looked up at the Prime, his face stained with tears and bearing no artificial jaw. His optics rotated wide, stumbling to unsteady pedes and running to meet him. “Op’mus!” he wailed._

_Optimus met him halfway, catching his sparkling into a fierce embrace. As soon as the Prime caught him, he started bawling, tears flowing anew._

_Confused and concerned, Optimus cradled the little one against his chassis, shushing him gently. He did not know the cause of Bee’s grief, but all he could do was offer comfort until the crying subsided._

_Eventually, Bee’s sobs died down enough that Optimus deemed him able to speak. He raised the sparkling to optic level, looking into the glossy, wide blue._

_“What is the matter, little spark?” he asked gently._

_Bee sniffled and curled himself further into Optimus’ servos. “L-leaving m-me.”_

_Optimus frowned, deeply troubled by the admission. “I would never leave you. Why do you think that?”_

_“Feel it.” Bee brought a servo to his spark chamber. “Gone.”_

_Memories started filtering back: the Decepticons discovering the base, him sending Bee away, then…_

_He understood what was happening then. He had come perilously close to offlining after staying behind in the Autobot base, and Bee’s spark was reaching out to him, manifesting in the dream as what he always perceived the scout to be: a sparkling, his sparkling._

_“I am not gone,” Optimus said firmly, “though it seems I came close to it. Since I am alive, I plan on remaining that way.”_

_“Can’t feel you.” Bee’s mouth trembled as he placed tiny digits on Optimus’ chassis._

_Optimus focused on the pulse of his own spark, unsurprised to find it fluttering and uneven. “My spark is weak. It will be harder to feel until I am healed._

_Bee pressed his helm against Optimus’ chassis, searching for the feel of his spark. He raised his voice, trying to link them once again in the way he knew best. The song came forth wavering and small on Bee’s voice, until the melody was bolstered by Optimus’ strong undertones._

I will sing to the heights of the Spire,

And unto the pits of Kaon.

My voice will carry through the night,

So my dear spark will see the dawn.

_Bee could not restrain a sob as the thread stretched out and connected them once more, faint though it was._

_“It is alright,” Optimus murmured, relieved as he felt Bee’s spark come back into his awareness. “You are alright.”_

_“Th-thought you were dead,” Bee whispered tremulously, new tears tracking down his face._

_“Hush, little spark.” Optimus swiped a digit across the sparkling’s faceplate, brushing away the tears. “I am here now.”_

_“What do I do now?” Bee asked, his face scrunching with concern._

_“I do not know what will become of me yet. Go find the other Autobots and regroup. I believe you will be able to find a way to overcome Megatron even in this. We have persevered with less.”_

_“I’ll find you,” Bee promised._

_“And I will find you.”_

_Bee nestled himself deeper into the Prime’s servos, wanting to stay there forever._

In the dead of night, Bee woke from his fitful recharge with a start. He sat up slightly, almost forgetting about the human boy asleep on his chassis and sending him tumbling to the forest floor. For a moment he was still as stone save for his venting, listening to the nighttime ambience of the forest they had taken refuge in. At first, he thought the dream had been just that—a dream born of grief and anger, but hope rose in him.

He turned his optics to the sky, taking in the majesty of the moon and all the stars, sending out a whispered strain of song into the night.

_“Hear my voice, my dear one, the song forever calling.”_

His spark pulsed alone for several moments, then with growing elation, he felt the mended strands of the bond tying itself around his spark. It was worryingly weak, but it persisted, and there was no mistaking the presence he had known all his life.

Optimus lived, though only just.

Tears slipped from Bee’s optics as he was overcome with relief, the unbearable horror of the past few hours seeming like a nightmare fading with the coming of dawn. Optimus’ health was worrying, filling him with the need to find his fellow Autobots all the quicker, but he was alive, which was enough for now.

Raf woke to Bee gentle shaking him with a digit. He looked up at his friend illuminated in the moonlight, immediately concerned by the tears on his face, but his worry died when Bee spoke, his binary shrill with uncontainable joy.

_“Optimus is alive!”_


	5. Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School has been ultra busy, so that's why it took so long to get this tiny chapter out. Originally I envisioned it way longer, and I'm not exactly happy with it, but I'll roll with it.

The real world slowly came back, washing in on tides of pain. Optimus was vaguely aware of movement through the waves of agony. Somebody was pulling at him, and every tug set a new stab of pain through his entire frame. It felt as though every part of him were on fire.

Out of habit, he reached out with his spark, utilizing the one sense he could always rely on when the others failed. Though his spark was weak, he was able to feel another near to his own, young and bright.

“B-Bee…?” The single word was like rusted metal across his vocoder, and it trailed off in a groan.

“No, not Bumblebee.” A voice, young and familiar but not in binary, spoke softly near his helm. “It’s Smokescreen. Relax.”

Optimus let out a grunt, just lucid enough to know he was not in immediate danger. The painful dragging and pulling continued as Smokescreen pulled him along, and eventually he faded back into stasis. He only came to again when the pulling stopped and he was propped against something.

“You’re hurt, but you probably look way worse than you feel.” Smokescreen’s voice filtered into his receptors, seeming to come from far away.

He rolled his helm with a pained moan, trying to see his rescuer, but his optics would only show him a blurry mass of white, blue, and red.

“No, don’t move or talk. Just power down.” A gentle servo patted his chassis. “Get your strength back. I got you covered.”

Optimus needed no second bidding, accepting the sweet pull of stasis that promised to stop the pain that filled every circuit of his frame. The last thing he was aware of was the faint trace of Bee’s presence, and he fell into unconsciousness, comforted that their connection remained.

Bee knew they were not safe when they narrowly avoided being spotted by a Decepticon Seeker patrol passing by overhead. The Decepticons had discovered they had not perished in the destruction, and had started the search for them. He could only hope that Optimus was somewhere safely hidden.

Fortunately, Raf came through with his rationale. In the dead of night, utilizing the cover of darkness and Raf’s hacking skills, they disabled the simple security system of a rural hardware store and snuck in. Neither boy nor bot were pleased with the prospect of having to steal, but it had to be done. They made off with several buckets of black paint, and spent the rest of the night giving him a new paint job.

Cybertronian coloration and markings were integral parts of the recognition systems both sides of the war employed, and if they were changed without the other side knowing, a bot could go unrecognized for quite some time. Bee was not thrilled with the idea of changing the markings he had borne his entire life, but it had to be done. He hoped Optimus would not mind the change, but he did not truly care so long as they saw each other again.

Painting Bee’s frame was a time-consuming process, and the method was a far cry from the Cybertronian technology he was used to. The human paint was sticky and felt foreign on his frame, but he figured he would soon grow used to it.

Dawn was just beginning to turn the sky light when they finished. Bee transformed into his vehicle mode, surprised by how different he looked with new emphasis on black markings, but it was sure to throw off any Decepticon scouts. Raf curled in his backseat, trying to catch a little bit of sleep as Bee took to the road, heading in the direction of Jasper.

He drove for a few hours uneventfully, until he sighted jets of an unmistakable model in the distance.

 _“Raf!”_ he hissed to the sleeping boy.

Raf jerked awake at the sudden call. “Huh—what?”

_“Decepticons!”_

All sleepiness vanished from him in an instant as a bolt of adrenaline hit him. He scrambled to the window, searching the sky for signs of the enemy.

 _“Lay low,”_ Bee ordered. _“Even if they don’t recognize me, they might catch you.”_

Raf did as he was told, slipping down to the floorboards. Bee continued driving at an even pace, watching the jets grow closer. His instincts screamed at him to gun his engines and speed away or transform and fight, but he held himself back, though he was ready to run at a moments notice. Hardly daring to breath, both boy and bot waited as the shadow of the jets passed over them.

For what seemed like a moment too long, the jets lingered, then they took off. Bee relaxed and pulled over once they reached an abandoned stretch of road, opening his door to let Raf out.

“Clear!” Raf called, checking the sky before he slid out.

Bee transformed and pulled back the branches of the tree they were under, inspecting the sky thoroughly and finding it empty. _“That seemed like a close call.”_

“Too close, but your paint job did the trick.”

Bee sighed and checked his comm for the umpteenth time that day. _“This is Bumblebee. Can anyone read me?”_

And for the umpteenth time that day, his calls were met with nothing but empty static.

 _“I got nothing,”_ he told Raf.

“The commlink’s still down,” the boy mused. “Bee, I realize Optimus sent us all to different locations to make us harder for the ‘cons to find. But if we don’t know where in the world anyone else went, how are we going to find them?”

_“We keep going towards Jasper. I don’t know where Optimus is, but he has to be somewhere close to there if he stayed behind.”_

“Right. Just keep heading towards Jasper.” Raf hesitated. “Towards Megatron’s giant fortress.”

 _“I don’t care about Megatron right now.”_ Bee clenched his fists. _“I have to get to Optimus.”_

“Can you tell where he is through your…bond?”

_“No, not unless he tells me. He might not even know where he is. All I know is that we’re getting closer to him.”_

Raf nodded. “Alright. Jasper it is.”

The next time Optimus came awake, his optics were better focused, allowing him to take in his surroundings. He was in some roughly-hewn cavern, the walls a mess of rock and metal shrapnel. Dust hung thickly in the air, clogging his vents and causing him to gasp as he came online.

“It’s okay, Optimus.” Something moved in his periphery, and Smokescreen’s helm filled his vision. “You’re with me, Smokescreen.”

Speaking was a tremendous effort, and the words that came out were a low, weak growl. “How did I get here?”

He listened, barely clinging to consciousness as Smokescreen explained his deeds. Part of him was irritated the young soldier kept defying orders at a great risk, but a larger part was thankfully. Thanks to him, he was alive for now.

“We’re safe here,” Smokescreen continued, “but we’re down so deep no one can pick up our signals.”

Comm signals would not work, but Optimus knew there was another type at work through his faint perception of Bee’s spark.

“I’ll have to scout above ground if we want to have any hope of finding Ratchet.” Smokescreen turned to go, but Optimus reached out and grabbed his servo.

Such a mission was too dangerous, and the Prime knew his wounds were too great to be healed even by Ratchet unless they found some sort of Cybertronian medical technology. Even then, he might be incapacitated for the rest of his life.

“No hope…” he rasped, feeling stasis pulling at him once more.

“Optimus?” Smokescreen’s voice faded into dizzying blackness.

Through his use of conspiracy websites, Raf managed to find Ratchet, and Bee set out at full throttle. They made it to the junkyard where Ratchet was long after the sun had set, and Bee stopped in front of the familiar vehicle sitting alone in the middle of the junkyard, letting Raf out.

“Ratchet, it’s me, Raf!” the boy yelled, running up to the medic.

Silence greeted his gleeful cries.

“Uh, Ratchet?”

Bee transformed into his alt mode, his spark sinking. He had an idea of Ratchet’s current mood, and it did not bode well. The medic was already devastated by the loss of the Omega Lock, and the separation of Team Prime had likely been the final straw.

“Go away.” The reply came, flat and devoid of emotion.

Bee knelt, resolving to try and reach the medic anyway. _“Come on, we need you.”_

“You’re interrupting my power down.”

Bee would have frowned if he could at his snappishness. Besides Optimus, he was the best option for coordinating Autobot efforts, and their chances of accomplishing anything without him were small.

“Come on, Ratchet, we need your help to find the others!” Raf insisted, undaunted by the medic’s hostile attitude.

 _“We can stop Megatron. We have to,”_ Bee said.

“We can’t stop Megatron. Not anymore,” Ratchet snapped.

“You’re giving up?” Raf asked indignantly. “You can’t just give up!”

Ratchet transformed in an instant, towering over the boy and the scout. “And tell me what we can do without communications, without a Groundbridge, without a base of operations or resources of any kind!”

 _“Starscream had a Groundbridge,”_ Bee murmured.

“Bee’s right,” Raf said. “We know Starscream had access to a Groundbridge while he was operating solo.”

“Yes, yes.” Ratchet waved away the suggestion irritably. “He’d clearly been using the derelict Decepticon ship, the Harbinger. What does that have to do with anything?”

“It could be full of Cybertronian tech, and it’s probably abandoned again now that Starscream’s back with the ‘Cons!”

Ratchet scoffed. “Well, resources won’t be of much use, not without someone to…” He faltered, and Bee knew what he was thinking before he even said it. “…lead us.”

Bee kept his helm lowered. It was clear he feared the same thing the scout had felt: the death of Optimus Prime. Bee knew their leader lived on, though barely just, but seeing Ratchet’s despair made him question if even that knowledge would persuade him.

“It’s a start!” Raf insisted.

“Well, you’ll have to start without me!” Ratchet growled. “This is someone else’s fight now.”

“There is no one else, Ratchet!” Raf cried. “Just us! Just the team!”

Ratchet shook his helm, turning away from them and transforming back into his vehicle mode. “Please, just let me rust in peace.”

Bee stood up, looking down at Ratchet sadly. The medic had always approached things logically, and even in the beginning of their small team, he had expressed doubts that they would ever amount to anything against the Decepticons. It seemed now he felt those doubts were realized, and that there was no coming back from such a devasting blow. But Bee resolved to try regardless of his doubt and despair; his spark drove him, and he had to get back to Optimus no matter the opposition they faced.

Raf turned away from Ratchet, his face downcast. “Come on, Bee.”

Bee transformed drove off once Raf climbed in.

“We’re still going to the Harbinger, right?” Raf asked quietly.

 _“Yes,”_ Bee said. _“Even if it’s only us, I’m not going to stop until I find Optimus.”_

“Do you think he’s okay?”

 _“I don’t know.”_ That was the question that plagued Bee continuously. He knew the Prime was not in good health, and though he did not know the circumstances surrounding why, Megatron was undoubtedly to blame. _“His spark is weak right now, though.”_

“We’ll get to him, Groundbridge or not.”

Optimus’ consciousness returned once more to the sound of Smokescreen’s voice speaking over him. “…couldn’t find Ratchet’s medical kit. Not even a bandage.”

“The Forge of Solus Prime,” Optimus breathed out, every word painful. The fabled relic was the only chance for Cybertron to be restored.

Smokescreen frowned. “That’s gone too. The ‘Cons picked the place clean.”

Optimus leaned his helm back, too weak to form any reply.

“Wait, if you had the Forge you could fix yourself up! Power of the Primes!”

Optimus was fading again, though he knew the young soldier was going to throw himself back into danger again. His headstrong, brash approach to things reminded him of Bee, and in that moment he was glad his youngling could not see him suffering.

“Optimus, just hang on a little longer. That hammer’s gotta be somewhere in Megatron’s fortress.”

Darkness enveloped Optimus once more.

Bee drove all night to get to where the Harbinger was located, and it took them until mid-morning to pinpoint the ship and get inside. By the time they made it to the control room, both Raf and Bee were exhausted, having stayed up all night.

“We can try to start the Groundbridge after we rest,” Raf murmured sleepily, slumping against the wall of the control room. “I can hardly think.”

Bee gave a buzz of agreement, settling down next to him. It had been one and a half days since he woke to the knowledge that Optimus was alive, and just as long since he recharged. A frantic, manic energy had kept him going, but now his systems demanded he rested and recharge for a few hours.

He closed his optics, humming a verse of the song to himself, letting his spark drift off on the thread in the hope it would lead to another dream.

_Optimus looked around as the darkness around him solidified into the void he had been in last time. His spark told him Bee was reaching out before he even saw the form of the scout standing in the dark._

_“Optimus!”_

_The Prime turned and saw Bee in his true, current form. Now that their connection was no longer driven by an outreach of pure, primal grief, Optimus’ perception of Bee was shifted to perceive him accurately, though his words were still true words, not limited to the binary of the waking world._

_“Little spark.” Optimus stepped forward, opening his arms, and Bee met him with a crushing embrace._

_“We found the ruins of the Harbinger.” The scout wasted no time with saying what he needed to, not knowing how much time they had in their connection. “We’re thinking if we can reboot the Cybertronian tech, we can get the team back together and have a chance at getting back at Megatron. But…”_

_Optimus tilted his helm as Bee trailed off, his brow furrowing. “What is it?”_

_“We found Ratchet and tried to get him to help us, but he’s given up completely. Without him, without you to lead us, I don’t know how much we can accomplish.”_

_Optimus resisted a sigh. Ratchet’s consistently low expectations of what they could accomplish on Earth had always been an issue, and he was sad to see it now affecting his youngling. “Give him time. The destruction of the Omega Lock hurt him greatly, but I do not believe he will forsake the Autobot cause completely. He will come to you eventually.”_

_Bee nodded, heartened by the Prime’s assurance. “If we can get the Groundbridge working, we can get you out of wherever you are.”_

_Optimus could not help but smile at his youngling’s determination, but it swiftly faded. “Unfortunately, I do not know where I am.” He vaguely remembered the dusty, rocky surroundings from when he was conscious, but he had no idea where he truly was. “I am not strong enough to wake up fully and investigate fully.”_

_Bee’s optics went wide, contracting to mere pinpoints as his suspicions about his health were confirmed. “We have to get to you before Megatron finds you! Before—“_

_Optimus rested a comforting servo on Bee’s helm, cutting off his worried rambling. “I am safe for now, little one. Smokescreen is with me.”_

_“Smokescreen?” Bee echoed, brow furrowing in consternation. “How?”_

_Though his memories of Smokescreen’s explanation was hazy at best, Optimus tried to repeat what the young soldier had told him. Bee took it all in quietly, relieved that the Prime was not alone in his incapacitated state._

_“I wish the comms were working,” Bee said when Optimus finished. “If we could find him he could lead us to you.”_

_“Even if they were, it would be unwise to try and use them,” Optimus said. “I am likely somewhere near the former base, and Megatron has undoubtedly been monitoring the area.”_

_Bee nodded, his doorwings drooping with disappointment as he realized he would not be able to obtain any useful information from their meeting, grateful as he was for it. Optimus saw his downcast expression and touched his shoulder._

_“Do what you can for now, little one,” Optimus said. “I am safe for now.”_

_“But you need medical attention,” Bee insisted. “You’re hurt.”_

_“I can wait. Your main concern right now is protecting Earth from Megatron. We cannot let the planet suffer the consequences of the war.”_

_Bee nodded reluctantly. “I will.”_

_The Prime placed a digit beneath his youngling’s chin, tipping his helm up so their optics could meet. “I am proud of you.”_

_“I will get to you as soon as I can,” Bee promised, and his expression, determined at first, turned to something more bereft. “…Optimus?”_

_“Yes?”_

_Bee hesitated, but decided to voice his thoughts, considering the possibility that the meeting could very well be their last. “I…I love you.”_

_At first, Optimus could form no reply. He had not heard such sentiment from Bee in eons, not that it needed to be said aloud. Nevertheless, the words struck him deeply._

_“And I love you, little spark,” he said at last, emotion cutting through his normally even tones. “No matter what becomes of us in this dark time, no matter what you manage to accomplish, I will always love you.”_

Bee woke in the ruins of the Harbinger, his faceplate wet with tears.

In an unnaturally formed cavern beneath the ruins of the Autobot base and the dark shadow of Megatron’s fortress, Smokescreen watched in confused awe as small tears of coolant squeezed themselves from Optimus Prime’s closed optics.


End file.
